I could not expect to
continue my attentions to her without explanations. How could I go into
explanations with Dorothy? But even if Dorothy only knew that Zoe was my
sister, what would she think of me? Could she have an interest in a man
with a family relationship of this sort? Could Dorothy, bred in
Tennessee, look with favor upon my attentions? Had Reverdy and Sarah
kept this relationship from Dorothy? Had some one else told her? But if
she had not found these circumstances a reason for turning from me could
she tolerate the rest of my difficulties?

And one night I came home to find Zoe in bed. She was in great pain and
very weak. She was scarcely able to talk. She took my hand and pressed
it, only saying: "I have done something for you. If I die, it will be
best anyway. If I live it will be all right. I could not bear to bring
you such shame and trouble. Don't worry ... don't."

Mrs. Brown came in and stood by the bed. She did not speak. She looked
at me as if to say that sometimes desperate things have to be done. I
understood. I acquiesced. Did Mrs. Brown do it? I never asked. Zoe's
sufferings were very great. All this for Lamborn's drunken madness. And
then Zoe began to mend. She was out of her difficulty. She became
herself in a few weeks. But her spirit had changed. She was wiser, more
self-possessed. She was more a woman. A great load had been lifted from
me; yet I now faced a new Zoe. What would this mature Zoe do to me?

CHAPTER XVI

There was the law against Zoe taking this step, and against any one
having any part in it. Still would it be known? I was content to wait
for developments and meanwhile to put the whole thing behind me. Work
helped me to do this.

I had Sarah's boy to interest me too. They had named him Amos. I had
taken five twenty-dollar gold pieces and tied them in a package, bound
them with a ribbon, and placed them in his tiny hand. I could not
foresee the time when I should touch his hand on an occasion of very
different import and with Zoe standing by. Zoe had made Amos some pretty
little things and sent them by me. Sarah's only regret was that her
grandmother could not see the boy. Her great happiness was wholly
beautiful. And Reverdy seemed impressed with a greater dignity and a
more gracious heart, if that were possible. I had found Mrs. Brown well
adapted to my household. She liked the place; and the prospect was that
she would be long in my service. Life was moving on.